


An Unexpected Visit to Earth: A Harry's Army Sidestory

by ap_aelfwine



Series: Harry's Army [2]
Category: Draka Series - S. M. Stirling, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, RCN Series - David Drake
Genre: F/F, F/M, Genderbending, House Elves who've read L. Neil Smith, House Elves with Sten Guns, Multi, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ap_aelfwine/pseuds/ap_aelfwine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Protecting the interests of the Republic took Signals Officer Adele Mundy, Lieutenant Daniel Leary, and Tovera to Harfleur Beta, a not particularly pleasant planet in the Normandie system. That was only part of the job in the Republic of Cinnabar Navy. But the last thing Adele would have expected was to suddenly find herself, her safely Platonic male best friend, and her functioning sociopath aide in the wilderness of something that looked remarkably like pre-spaceflight Earth.<br/>Now Daniel has a new perspective on human relations, Tovera has a conscience, and Adele herself has a terrible feeling that her hormones have decided to start working. As if that weren't bad enough, something she can only call magic turns out to be real and they've met an army of friendly girl-soldiers and their general/husband. Won't this be fun?</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Visit to Earth: A Harry's Army Sidestory

**Author's Note:**

> I'd never intended to write more in the Harry's Army-verse. In fact, I first conceived of introducing Adele Mundy and Tovera into the mix as an example of why writing any more of it would be absurd. As anyone who's read my fic will probably have noticed by now, I like threesomes, foursomes, even fivesomes. But I rather dislike the massive harem fics that have started cropping up over the past few years--the sort of thing where Harry ends up with every named woman in the 'verse, from Amelia Bones and her niece Susan to Professor McGonagall to a feminised Blaise Zabini--and "Harry's Army" was written as a parody of the same.  
> Then, in May of 2011, this idea hit me and I found that I had to write it. Depicting the Army from an outsider's viewpoint and over the course of a single evening allows me to avoid the worst aspects of the massive harem genre: the endless chapters of "Harry woke up and had sex with [these twelve wives], then he went out and built a new castle from the ground up so all the monogamous working class Wizards who owed him fealty could know he was a real man just like them (only stronger and richer and able to make more women climax in a day than they could in a decade), then he had lunch with [the fifteen wives whose turn it was that day], then he found some Death Eaters he hadn't killed yet and killed all of them except for [these hot female ones] whom he added to his harem after he and [the author's favourite canon girl] had fun sexing (it wasn't rape because Harry was the good guy, and of course they totally loved it) them into submission, then he put on his Archducal robes and did government stuff, like making Minister Fudge cringe and wet himself before Harry's Goblin drinking buddies hauled him off to be executed...", the way that beloved characters like Hermione and Luna end up buried under piles of OCs and/or crossover characters, the sheer awkwardness of managing a cast of dozens, if not hundreds...  
> Of course, this is still, needless to say, not meant to be taken too seriously. What I've done to the RCN characters alone should prove it.

The characters and situations of the Harry Potter series are copyright J.K. Rowling. The characters and situations of the Draka series are copyright S.M. Stirling. The characters of the Republic of Cinnabar Navy series are copyright David Drake. The characters and situations of Star Trek are copyright Paramount Pictures, and the Rihannsu are the creation of Diane Duane. They may not be used or reproduced commercially without permission. The use of these characters and situations is not to be construed as challenge to said copyright. They are merely borrowed for this work of non-commercial fanfiction, from which the author derives no financial benefit.

  
Warnings: Gratuitous silliness. Out-of-characterness. Extreme parodic elements. Polyamoury. Femmeslash. Heterosexuality. Suggestive elements. Cute, cuddly, and reformed Draka. Tovera blessed (or afflicted?) with affection and a conscience. Adele Mundy afflicted (or blessed?) with hormones. Daniel Leary afflicted (or blessed?) with a new perspective on human relations. House Elves with strong opinions on the right to keep and bear arms. Yours Truly.

***

Pairings/triplings/otherings: Implied Ron/Pansy. Dobby/Winky/Original female House Elf/Original Female House Elf. Harry/Hermione/Luna/Ginny/Millicent Bulstrode/Gwendolyn Ingolfsson/Winifred Makers/Susan Bones/...

Hints of future Daniel/Tovera/Adele/?

***

There was an interminable moment of falling, and then it was over, just as suddenly as it had begun. Adele Mundy found herself lying on fresh, slightly damp green grass. Which didn't make sense--the part of Harfleur Beta they'd been in moments ago had only the odd patch of dry scrub. Daniel Leary, of course, would be able to sort out what looked to Adele like patches of dry scrub into complex little pocket ecosystems with a staggering variety of plant and animal life. Thinking of Daniel she pushed herself up into a sitting position, and looked about her. If her best friend was gone...

Fortunately, he was right beside her, lying on the ground as well, almost within arm's length. He was still, and for a moment she was concerned, but then he rolled over and looked up at her. "Adele? Do you have any idea at all of where we are?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." She fished out her portable data unit and flicked it open. Holographic information cascaded at the prompting of her twin control wands... all of it data she'd saved to the unit itself. "Well, this is interesting. Not only can I not contact the _Princess Cecile,_ I can't connect to any sort of local network. Considering that Harfleur, for all its faults, has an information infrastructure not grossly inferior to that of Cinnabar or Pleasaunce..."

"And that the ecosystem around us is like nothing in the entire Normandie system, let alone on Harfleur itself..."

"Something unusual has happened to us. Which is obvious. The question is what that something might be."

"Mistress? Mister Leary?" said a familiar voice. "Where are we?" There might have been a hint of puzzlement in it. Or perhaps that was only Adele's imagination. Tovera, as a general rule, viewed the universe with a calm acceptance that might have been called saintly enlightenment had it occurred in an individual possessed of a conscience and a sense of mercy.

Daniel was examining a blade of grass. He dropped it and picked up a fallen leaf. "Remarkable. I never thought to see such a purely Terran ecosystem, not in all my days. Even on Earth herself, I'm told, there's any number of extraterrestrial species that have adapted successfully, and it's been that way since well before the Hiatus. But here... there's nothing that's not a direct derivative of the mother world. It's as if we were in a sealed habitat established as a simulation of Earth before spaceflight... but I don't see how that sky could be anything other than natural."

For a moment Adele wondered if that strange bright flash and falling sensation had been death, after all. _Was I wrong all these years? Is there a Heaven, and is this it? Will I see my sister again?_ It did look to be the sort of Heaven Daniel might like. But Adele doubted she herself would reach any sort of Heaven, even if such a place did exist, and she could even less imagine Tovera belonging there. _Then again, I'm not religious, so perhaps I'm not looking at the matter from the right perspective. I gather there are people who believe the theoretical Almighty to be merciful beyond all imagining. I've never thought the universe provided much evidence for that, but..._

"Wouldn't it be funny if we were on Earth in the distant past, Mister Leary?"

"Funny would be one word for it, I suppose," Daniel said. "Actually, as I think about it, it _would_ be funny. In a backhanded sort of way." Tovera smiled. Adele was never quite sure about these things, but it appeared Tovera had been attempting a joke. _And one that didn't reference killing anyone. Perhaps she_ is _developing an actual sense of humour._

Daniel got an odd look on his face. "Does either of you feel... strange?"

"I'm never sure what that word actually means," Tovera said, "but I don't think I do."

"How do you mean, Daniel?"

"As if... your clothes didn't fit quite right? I--" A strange look crossed his face. "I swear I've... Oh bugger. Look, I'm... I'll be back in a minute." He headed for the nearest clump of bushes.

Small talk wasn't something Adele was any good at. Fortunately, Tovera didn't expect her to be. Approximately forty-five seconds later Daniel came pelting back, his face white. In the years since they'd first met she'd seen him face planetary invasions, angry mobs, missiles travelling at sizeable fractions of lightspeed, and worse. But this was the first time she'd ever seen him look frightened. "Dear God in Heaven, Adele. I seem to have turned into a woman."

"Really?"

"I may never have possessed the requisite equipment before now, but I'd think I've seen and touched enough of it to know. Of course, if you'd _like_ to look for yourself, you're more than welcome to."

"I think I'll take your word for it, Daniel."

"I'm sorry," he said. "That was uncalled for on my part. Have you ever heard of anything like this before?"

"Outside of mythology and folklore, no. And there's no need to apologise. I can't imagine it's very pleasant to suddenly be of the opposite sex."

Daniel grinned. "Well... I suppose I always have sort of wondered what sex really felt like for a woman."

"Do you think you'll be interested in men now? I mean, I've never thought you were, before, but I'm sure I've not seen everyone you've had sex with, and I'm not a very good judge of these things." Tovera said. Adele winced.

Fortunately, Daniel seemed to think it was rather funny. "No, Tovera," he said, once the borderline-hysterical laughter was over, about five seconds after Adele started to worry, "I never have been, and my tastes don't seem to have changed, but I've always been curious, ever since the first time a girl said she wasn't interested cos she only liked girls... Of course, that one and her special friend turned out to be a little bit flexible, after all. They were sweet, really. And very cuddly, even if their interest was purely experimental. We even had breakfast together, which I wasn't expecting at all."

"Girls tend to be that way," Tovera said. "But I haven't had sex with one in a very long time. It was part of my Fifth Bureau training, you see. There was always the possibility I might have to pose as a courtesan, or even act as someone's mistress as part of a mission."

Adele wouldn't have thought Tovera was pretty enough for either possibility, any more than she herself was. But there was no accounting for taste, of course. And besides that, there was something odd about this light, perhaps because it _was_ what human beings had evolved in, or at least a very accurate simulacrum. In it, Tovera looked... almost personable.

Daniel seemed to be recovering from the shock already. That was in character for him, of course. _In character for_ her _. I have to get used to thinking that way. At least until this is over. Just in case it might not be. Her. Her. Her._

"Adele," Daniel said gently. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing more than usual, I suppose. I'm having trouble making myself use the right pronoun. It will pass."

"The right... oh. Well, we'll get through this, one way or another. I reckon the Sissies will take it in stride, but do you think the Navy Board will have any trouble accepting I'm me?"

"Well, I can't imagine that your retina patterns will have changed, so I suppose they'll have to."

"And if they do make an issue of it I'm sure Mistress Mundy will alter all the records to indicate that Lieutenant Daniel Leary has always been female," Tovera said. "Even your Alliance Fleet Intelligence dossier and Countess Klimovna's private diary. The Countess might well find herself wondering why she was so attracted to a woman."

Two _jokes, or maybe three. Does this mean she'll develop a conscience next?_

There was nothing else to do, so they headed south. "Perhaps we'll find a road," Daniel said. "Assuming, of course, that there's any sort of civilisation hereabouts. If we don't... we'll walk till about an hour before dusk--I'm thinking that gives us about four hours' walking time, if I'm right about how the sun moves here. Once we find a good camping spot, I'll see if I can't set a few snares. We might as well try to save the rations in our dismount kits."

It was actually a rather pleasant walk, Adele supposed. She didn't exactly _like_ walking, but, then again, she didn't _like_ extractions from the Matrix, either. Daniel certainly seemed to enjoy it. _She_ was whistling something. Adele thought it might have been "Maids, When You're Young Never Marry an Old Man."

They didn't find a road, nor any other trace of civilisation, so they made camp on a hillside near a stream. Adele tried to memorise the things Daniel was doing, feeling obscurely annoyed that her own parents hadn't been the hunting and fishing sort of Cinnabar aristocrat. _If we're stuck here, like this, I'm going to have to learn to be useful._ The thought of a world where library research and signals intelligence were useless skills was too painful to contemplate. Her one consolation was that Tovera didn't seem to know anything about camping, either. The two of them gathered firewood whilst Daniel went off to do something or other.

She came back whistling. "Well, at least we'll not go hungry tonight. These are genuine Terran squirrels, but it turns out they're not _that_ much different to Cinnabar tree hoppers. I'm glad Hogg taught me how to make and use a slingshot as well as how to shoot." Something dark crossed her face for a moment. "God damn, but I hope he's all right." Adele wished she were the sort of person who could say meaningless comforting phrases with conviction. Or at least that Tovera were, as absurd as the thought was. Hogg, of course, would have some pithy comment that served the same purpose without being a lie, but neither Adele nor Tovera were any good for those, either.

Daniel knelt and went to work lighting the fire she'd prepared earlier. Adele laid her hand on her shoulder. It felt awkward. Daniel gave her a quick smile, so apparently she'd made the correct choice. "Now the fire's going, I'll dress these. Would you like me to show you how?"

"I suppose I'm going to need to learn, aren't I? Yes, please."

The process was vaguely unpleasant, unless Adele compared it with things like shooting people. At the end of it, they had a collection of small skinless and gutted carcasses, which they skewered on sticks and cooked over the fire.

Adele found herself shivering despite the fire. Daniel draped a silvery emergency blanket from the dismount kit round her shoulders. "Time to sleep," she said. "As captain, I'll take the first watch."

"Mistress," Tovera said, "we have limited resources. I think it would be appropriate to share warmth."

"You don't have to..." Adele said.

"It's my responsibility to keep you in good health, Mistress."

"Tovera has a point, Adele," Daniel said. "We've got clothes on, and besides that, well, we're all girls here."

There was nothing to say to that, so she didn't. She and Tovera lay down, back to back, with one blanket under them and two over. Sleep didn't come easily for Adele Mundy, as a general rule, and she hadn't shared a bed since childhood, not even in the worst garret she'd inhabited in exile, but for some reason she fell asleep almost instantly.

She woke to the feeling of Daniel gently shaking her shoulder. "Sorry to wake you," she whispered, "but I thought it was better for you to have second watch than Tovera. _She_ might leave us two to sleep and stay up the whole night. I'm sure she could handle it for a day or two, at that, but if she keeps on doing it... well, even Tovera has limits."

"True."

"Just... don't you try to watch out the night, either, Adele."

"Yes, Captain," she murmured. There was something charming about Daniel's female face, and the way she wrinkled her nose, trying not to laugh out loud. If Adele had been interested in that sort of thing, she would have kissed that wrinkled-up nose, on the very tip. For that matter, even though she wasn't _interested_ , she still thought of doing it, simply as an act of human affection. But Daniel might take it the wrong way, and it would be awkward to have to explain that she _hadn't_ changed her mind about sexuality. Bad enough if Daniel apologised and said, as gently as she could, that she wasn't interested in Adele that way; even worse if she thought she had to pretend as if she were, out of kindness and friendship and a sense of charity. Which was a terrible thought, because Adele knew perfectly well she was too old and too intelligent and far too close of a friend to hold any sexual appeal for Daniel, and surely a different set of gonads wouldn't change that.

Adele got up and closed the seals of her boots, turning her back on her companions and the banked fire. Behind her she heard the soft rustling as Daniel crawled into her place, back to back with Tovera. Daniel had kept the same height, as near as Adele could judge, and the same amount of body fat as well, which was good because he'd been on the trimmer side at the moment they'd vanished from Harfleur. He'd never been fat, of course, but he could get... pudgy, that was the best word for it. If he'd been pudgy, _she_ might have been in need of a brassiere, which would have been awkward. _I don't think either of us has a spare. Not that I really need mine that much, nor Tovera, either... but even so, a bustier Daniel might not be able to wear either of ours. Besides that, I think she looks nice just the way she is._

Where had that come from? Adele pushed the thought aside, annoyed with herself. Woolgathering was bad enough. Pretending to think about things the way other people did, with their excessive hormones and all the rest, was a stop on the road to madness.

She sat still and listened to the night. There were animal noises she couldn't identify. She wished Daniel were awake, so she could ask. Once there was a sound of hooves in the distance, and something that almost resembled laughter. Primitive people sometimes rode domesticated animals, she knew, and some of those animals had hooves. She checked her pistol, and readied to wake her companions if the sound came closer. But it didn't.

Finally her chronometer vibrated. Waking Tovera was safer than one might have expected--the woman didn't have the normal startle responses of a veteran fighter who might expect danger at any moment when sleeping in an unsecured area, but was, in her own way, in full conscious control of herself at all times. That said, on the rare occasions when it was necessary Adele generally prodded her toe, for safety's sake.

For some reason she'd extended one arm, and her fingertips were almost protruding from under the blanket. Adele brushed them lightly with her own. Tovera stuck her head out from the blanket. If she'd been anyone else, Adele might have described her expression as a smile. "Good morning, Mistress. I suggest you get under here as quickly as I'm out. There's no reason to waste the heat."

"Good morning," Adele whispered back, and did as Tovera suggested. For a moment, her face was to Daniel's back, and for just an instant of that moment she was tempted to stay in that position. Sometimes when her little sister Agatha had nightmares she would crawl into Adele's bed and spoon herself up against her older sister's back... but thoughts of Agatha always led to thoughts of her ten-year-old head displayed on Speaker's Rock. Adele turned away and composed herself for sleep. She'd lost her family, and found a new one in the RCN despite herself, after fifteen years of believing she didn't need any such thing. And now, however far away the RCN and the crew of the _Sissie_ might be... she had Daniel, and even Tovera. It was enough.

She woke to sunlight and Daniel's hand on her shoulder. An hour later, after a quick breakfast of freshly-caught fish, they were ready to head on their way. "I suppose a bath would be nice, at some point," Daniel said, "but I'm hoping to get a better idea of the territory before we make ourselves that vulnerable. Lord, I wish we could have checked the Sailing Directions for this planet before coming here."

"I don't know what the Sailing Directions say, but I think I could find you a bath, if you'd like one," said a young girl's voice behind them. All three whirled, weapons ready. The speaker was slender, blonde, and about Adele's height. She wore an outfit that might have been infantry combat fatigues from some unknown army, except for the fact that it was splotched with the most peculiar combination of colours Adele had ever seen; there was pink, and puce, and black, and green, as well as a couple she wasn't even sure she could name. "Hello," she said. "I'm sorry for startling you. Also sorry that we didn't find you yesterday, but the detector-net isn't quite perfect for this region yet. I'm Luna Mairéad Potter-Lovegood. Very pleased to meet you."

Much to Adele's surprise, Tovera had already put her little submachine gun away. "She doesn't want to hurt us," she said. "And if she did, we'd all be dead already. Don't ask me how I know, but I do."

"Wha--"Adele began to say, but Daniel laid a hand on her arm.

"Hello. I'm Lieutenant Daniel Leary of the Republic of Cinnabar Navy. My companions are Signals Officer Lady Adele Mundy and Mistress Tovera, who doesn't, so far as I know, have another name. Pleased to meet you, Mistress Potter-Lovegood. And would you mind explaining how you found us, and why?"

"I found you by using magic, of course. Your arrival here put quite a ripple in the local aether. If the background magic in this region weren't so odd, half the Wizards on the continent would have been Flooing their local constabulary to ask what was going on. As to why, it's because I'm a staff-grade wife of General Harry Potter, and I'm the one who's pulling dimensional traveller duty this week."

"Magic," Adele said. She realised her pistol was still in her left hand, and put it away. "I don't believe any such thing exists."

"You're welcome to think of it as a sort of very advanced science, utilising a mutant ability to manipulate the fabric of reality at the quantum level. You'd be wrong, of course, but it's fine to be wrong if it doesn't hurt anyone and truly makes you feel better. As long as you accept that I can use it to do, say, this." The girl had a stick in her hand, which she must have released from a sleeve holster. She pointed it at a stump and said a couple of strange words. Seconds later, the stump had become a table with a full meal laid out on it and four chairs. "I hope this will satisfy you. If anything doesn't suit your individual allergies or dietary requirements, please let me know. My own cookery skills are somewhat limited, but my dear friend and colleague Winky is on call. She's qualified to cook for practically every cultural group amongst all known species of sapient being, and for at least two dozen unknown ones as well."

"We're human," Adele had to say. "And should I take it that you are, also?" She was feeling just slightly numb. _Magic. Bloody_ magic _. Or at least teleportation, which more than four thousand years of human experimentation indicates is impossible above the quantum level, so it might as well be magic._

"I _think_ so," Luna said. "Of course, it's always possible that I'm actually a Crumple-horned Snorkack having an extremely vivid hallucination, but I'm inclined to say that's not the case. I clearly remember making love to my husband and six of my co-wives last night, and I'm reasonably sure a Snorkack wouldn't know enough about human sexuality to imagine half of it. I do suppose that's more a matter of faith than reason, but, then again, the things Millie and Harry and Hermione and Ginny, working together, can do to a girl have got to be Heaven-sent. And that's without even mentioning Gwen and Winnie and darling M'Ress. You wouldn't think of it, because she looks so much like a cat and Earth cats' tails don't work that way, but her tail is fully prehensile, and she has amazingly fine motor control, not to mention a wicked imagination."

Adele was amused to note that Daniel was actually blushing. And Tovera's eyes were wide. "Mistress," she said, "I don't think I've ever seen your face that red before." _She must be talking to Daniel._ "Mistress Mundy? Are you all right?"

"Oh. Yes."

"Well," Luna said, "sorry for digressing there, but I do love my wonderful spice. So, shall we eat? I've already had breakfast, and a bit of luncheon besides, but Apparating across the ocean takes a fair bit of energy, and I must confess I find myself rather peckish. Besides that, you three look hungry."

They sat down. Adele found herself facing Luna, with Daniel beside her and Tovera next to their hostess. The food was... surprisingly reminiscent of Cinnabar food, but the similarities only made the differences more startling. The scrambled eggs had bits of hot pepper in them, which was homelike, but there was a hint of something that might have been cinnamon as well; not even Kostromans put cinnamon in scrambled eggs. The potatoes were fried rather than mashed or steamed, and the bread had been toasted and spread with _butter_ , of all things. The sausages weren't flavoured with mustard and climber-bush, oregano and aniseed, or even juniper berries, but tasted of black pepper; it wasn't bad at all, but it was very unexpected. 

To drink there was a thick sweet juice that wasn't made from mangoes or oranges, and something that Luna called coffee. It didn't _taste_ anything like coffee--it was bitter, almost like cacao without any sugar in it, and had a peculiar astringent edge. There was tea as well, but it was brown and smelled even stranger than the coffee. At least the bacon was recognisable, no stranger than the heathery-peaty-spicy bacon from pigs raised on Blythe, and considerably better than the salty, iodine-tinged bacon one got on Kostroma, where pigs were fed fish scraps and seaweed.

Adele was contemplating the most polite way to ask for some other hot drink, for Daniel and Tovera's sake, of course, when Luna said "Milk and sugar might make the coffee more to your taste, I suspect." She looked distant for a moment. "Or perhaps a touch of maple syrup? I can summon some of that. I gather people don't normally put it in coffee, but I don't know why they don't. Then again, I don't know why people don't normally put a splash of hot sauce in their pumpkin juice. It gives it such a nice edge."

"Maple syrup," Daniel said. "Maple syrup? Then we _are_ on Earth. I've only ever read about sugar maples... they wouldn't grow on Cinnabar, and from what I've read they wouldn't grow anywhere else, either, that wasn't a sealed environment, and they nearly went extinct during the wars that brought about the Hiatus."

"Here," Luna said, plucking a little glass bottle out of, seemingly, thin air. "Why don't you try some? And maybe next spring we could take you to see it made? There aren't any sugar maples to speak of at home in England, but we do have friends here in America."

"Really? I've always wondered what maple syrup tasted like, ever since I first read about it. Good Lord, I could kiss you!" She blushed. "I'm sorry, that was rather inappropriate, wasn't it?"

"Not at all," Luna said. "The only man I've ever had any interest in is my husband Harry, at least since Ginevra's brother Ronald pushed me into the pond when I was eight, although I do have to admit he was a boy back then, not that his manners have improved so very much since and I'd feel sorry for Pansy if I didn't know they deserve each other, but I'm always willing to kiss a pretty girl. Your aura makes me think you used to be male, but you're definitely all girl now, aren't you?"

"I seem to be," Daniel said. "I've not had a chance to really try the parts out yet, but they seem to work, and they're definitely the female model."

"Well," Luna said, "I'm an old fashioned girl, so we couldn't do any _serious_ testing unless you were to get at least betrothed to my family, but there's no harm in a simple kiss, is there?"

"No." There was something dreamy in Daniel's voice. Adele didn't know why she was suddenly feeling a knot of tension in her stomach.

"But perhaps we'd better finish eating first, hadn't we?" Luna said. "You all seem rather hungry, and it always seems to me that food is better for not having been under a stasis charm." She handed Daniel the little bottle of syrup. A pitcher of hot milk and a little bowl of sugar had somehow appeared on the table. Both looked almost like their Cinnabar equivalents, although the milk should have been slightly bluer to be comfortably homelike.

Adele found that enough milk and sugar did make the alleged coffee drinkable, despite the fact that it still didn't _taste_ like coffee. The flavour might even grow on her, she had to admit. She decided to ignore the syrup. _Daniel seems so fascinated with the stuff, and I wouldn't want to deprive her of her treat. Not when the universe has already deprived her of her--I'm not going to complete that thought._

"Adele," Daniel said, "this is splendid. Really, you should try some."

"I'm sure it would only be wasted on me..."

"We've plenty of it, Miss Mundy. Harry and Hermione and our wife Lina and I saved a maple sugar producer in Massachusetts from a raging zombie mastodon whilst we were hunting some stragglers from the late unlamented Dork Lard's forces, and he gave us a lifetime supply as a token of his gratitude. For our entire family, I might add. Including friends, and future recruits."

Daniel had cut one of the odd little circular scones in half and put syrup on it. She held it up, and before she properly understood what she was doing Adele had leant over and taken a bite from it whilst it was still in her fingers. _Now why did I do_ that _, of all things?_ She was afraid to look... but Daniel was grinning. The familiar expression looked rather nice on her new feminine face... not that it hadn't looked nice before. Adele had always enjoyed Daniel's broad smiles and enthusiastic approach to life, in the abstract sort of way that she might enjoy a rare manuscript or a pre-Hiatus artefact, of course.

If Daniel had _said_ anything, Adele might have felt more embarrassed. But she didn't. Instead she held out the rest of the half-scone, smiling, until Adele took it. Not knowing what else to do, she nibbled a bit more. It _was_ a pleasant taste, in an unexpected sort of way--sweet like the familiar sugarcane syrup, but different. "Thank you, Daniel."

"Might I try some, Mistress Leary?" Tovera said.

"Of course," Daniel said, and passed the other half across the table with a generous dollop of syrup on it. For an instant Adele thought Tovera looked disappointed when Daniel didn't fed her by hand in the same way, but that was absurd. Tovera didn't feel emotions like disappointment, and Daniel hadn't intended to feed Adele, either--it was simply some strange reflex from her very small childhood that had caught her unawares under the impact of their situation, and Daniel's natural politeness and kindness had smoothed it over.

Luna smiled. "I take it you're members of a military organisation? I am as well, of course, but I know ours isn't typical. Before us not even the Wizarding World had ever fielded anything larger than a commando team that doubled as a group marriage, and I think the closest the Muggles ever got was the Sacred Band of Thebes, and that was made up of exclusive couples, and they were all men besides."

"Well, yes," Daniel said. "Adele and I are officers in the Republic of Cinnabar Navy, and Tovera is Adele's... aide. Not that a Signals Officer normally has a personal aide, but... well, Adele isn't the typical Signals Officer, and they work well together."

"You're not lovers, are you?" Luna said.

Adele didn't even know what to say to that. Fortunately, Tovera had an answer: "Mistress Mundy has never asked me to serve her in that capacity."

"I didn't think so, but it never hurts to ask. So, where is Cinnabar?"

The other two looked at Adele, even though she personally thought Daniel might have answered the question better. "It's another planet, many light years away from here, and I think it must be several thousand years in the future, but I'm a bit puzzled because I _think_ there'd be some historical record of people who could do... things like you do. And as much as part of me wants to think it's all a trick, I do have to believe the evidence of my own eyes, and hands, and mouth."

"Oh, there are all sorts of futures," Luna said. "And all sorts of pasts. I've friends and co-wives from many of them. So, I'd imagine it must be a space navy, am I right?"

They sat there for the next hour or so, sipping the strange coffee, which Adele had to admit was beginning to grow on her, and talking about each others' worlds.

"The thing I don't understand," Adele said, "is why we're able to talk to each other. I _know_ that languages have changed enormously since humanity started spreading off Earth, and from everything I can tell this is well before then. Everyone on Cinnabar and the major Alliance worlds speaks Universal, which is the most common language in the galaxy, but that didn't even begin to evolve until after the beginning of star travel. It doesn't make sense that you'd be able to speak Universal. And yet... you are. Do you have some sort of... _magical_ gift of tongues?" She couldn't believe she'd said something like "gift of tongues." That was a poet's expression, or a priest's, and Adele Mundy was a librarian turned signals officer.

Luna laughed. "To the best of my knowledge I speak at least a dozen languages, including Gobbledygook, and all of my spice do tell me I have a very talented tongue, but I don't _think_ that's what's happening here. To me, all three of you are speaking English. You and Miss Leary both have an interesting sort of mid-Atlantic accent, I might add, and Miss Tovera's is like a cross between Minnesotan and Australian. I always did wonder what that combination might sound like."

"English?" Adele said. "That's... not what I expected. There are supposed to be a surprising number of English loan-words in Universal, especially the archaic stages, and I know there are historians who think it was a major lingua franca at one time, but... I don't usually babble this much. Sorry."

"It's all right," Luna said. "You've a pleasant voice, and you say interesting things. Besides, it must be a shock to have your handsome best friend suddenly become a beautiful girl, on top of unexpected time travel and all the rest. You're very much to be excused for not feeling quite yourself." She frowned. "Is that the right expression? I've never understood how one could know how one was feeling like someone else, since one presumably wouldn't have been someone else at any other time."

"I think it's acceptable," Daniel said.

"Excuse me, Mistress Potter-Lovegood? I've never been on either of those planets. I've never even heard of them. I was born on Pleasaunce." Tovera sounded like a schoolgirl who'd just been told that two plus two sometimes _didn't_ equal four. 

"Don't worry. It's a very pleasant accent, Miss Tovera."

"You don't have to call me that, Mistress," Tovera said. "I only have the one name, and I've never required a title."

"That's hardly fair," Luna said. "There's something broken in you, I can see that, but it doesn't excuse people treating you as a tool or a domesticated animal."

"I'm not very good at judging these things, but I think Mistress Mundy and Mistress Leary don't."

"That's because they're very nice people. And they don't use a title because you're part of their family. But... may I try something? I think I could help you."

"I don't think I can be helped, but as you wish, Mistress." _If I had a heart left to break, what Tovera just said would break it. Perhaps she feels more than I give her credit for._

Luna turned in her seat to face Tovera and leant forward slightly. Before Adele could process what she was doing, she'd kissed Tovera full on the lips.

"Don't kill her, Tovera! Don't harm her in any way, or I'll shoot you where you stand. My word as Mundy of Chatsworth on it!" Adele realised that her pistol was out in her left hand, halfway to full extension. She let her hand rest on the table, but kept her grip on the weapon, just in case. "Although I'll not permit her to injure you, Mistress, you have just committed a highly inappropriate action against my retainer. Would you care to explain why you chose to molest a woman whom you just met an hour or two ago?"

"Oh, Mistress! She didn't molest me at all. Why... it's wonderful! I... I don't know what she did, but she healed something inside me. The part of me that I always knew was missing... she put it back, or did she make me a new one? I don't know what she did, but it's there, now. Do you think you could teach me how to do that, Mistress Potter-Lovegood?" It took Adele a moment to realise that the voice was Tovera's.

"I don't know if I can, but I'll teach you all the healing I can teach, if you'd like me to. And might you call me Luna, please? I'd like to think we'll be friends, at the very least."

"Mis--Luna. I'd like that, as long as you'll call me Tovera. And may I...?"

"Of course." Tovera nearly leapt into Luna's lap, wrapped her in an embrace, and kissed her. Adele returned the pistol to her pocket. There was something else odd, aside from the utter strangeness of Tovera hugging and kissing someone and sitting in her lap; at last, she realised that her aide was crying. Adele had never been able to imagine Tovera crying, not even as a baby, any more than she could imagine herself crying. Luna stroked Tovera's colourless-pale hair, murmuring something. Adele wanted to look away and give them privacy, but there was something compelling about the sight. _I'd never really thought about how small Tovera really is. Potter-Lovegood is slightly shorter than me, but Tovera looks very natural in her lap._

"Aren't they a lovely sight?" Daniel said. "I never imagined I'd see Tovera look happy."

"I suppose you're right." There was that knot in her midsection again. She couldn't imagine what it was.

"Adele? Just so you know... I'm glad you're here with me. Don't get me wrong, I wish we were all with the _Sissie_ where we belong, but I can't imagine anyone I'd rather be with, in a situation like this." Daniel held out her hand. Adele took it. They held hands far longer than a normal handshake. _By my standards,_ some irrelevant part of her thought, _this is the equivalent of jumping into Daniel's lap and clinging to her._ The knot had left as quickly as it had come, and with as little explanation.

When breakfast was done, Luna waved her wand again and the table, chairs, and dishes disappeared. "So," she said, "would you like to come home with me? There's plenty of hot water, and we do have guest rooms. You can stay with us as long as you like, or at least whilst you figure out what you want to do next?"

"Do you think our being there rather than here would make any difference as far as us... going home?" Daniel said.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you, but I'm afraid there's not much chance of that," Luna said softly. "In every case we know of where anyone has shown up the way you three have done, she's here for good. But my co-wife Hermione can look into the question, if you'd like. I'm sure you'd be welcome to join her, Mistress Mundy."

"Mistress Potter-Lovegood," Daniel said, "I mean you no offence, but it's my duty to ask. Did your organisation have anything to do with our arrival and... other unexpected events?"

"No. Or at least we didn't do anything to cause it to happen. We don't even know how you got here. We do have some capacity for opening portals to visit selected people, at least the ones whose lives have ended up as stories in our world, but we've never been able to bring them here except by making contact and inviting them. And Miss Leary's sex-change is pure wild magic--none of our ways of doing that deliberately last even as long as an hour, which I do have to admit can be sort of fun, sometimes, but in the end it's easier to just use a strap-on, once the novelty's worn off. Strap-ons, in my experience, don't disappear at just the most frustrating moment possible." Adele decided that she'd be happier not knowing exactly _what_ strapped on to _where_.

"Fair enough," Daniel said. "I might not have any concrete evidence for believing you, but I do. A fighting officer has to trust his--or her--gut sometimes."

"I'm not a trusting person," Adele said, "but I can't can't see any holes in your story, as much as I hate to admit it. If I believed the events of the last day and a half were all part of some gigantic conspiracy to get the three of us off the _Princess Cecile_ , I'd be forced to believe the entire universe was a gigantic conspiracy to do _something_. And that's coming far too close to theology for my tastes."

"And I believe you, Luna," Tovera said.

"It takes a bit more power than I have to bring four people across the ocean, so I'm going to call in a friend and colleague to help. Please don't be startled by her appearance." She turned her face to the sky. "Miz Winky? Four to beam up, please."

A little leathery-skinned, big-eared person appeared. She wore rough loose-fitting trousers and jacket that vaguely resembled RCN utilities, except for being pieced together out of dozens of different-coloured socks, and carried a slung chemical propellent submachine gun; the weapon had a peculiar side-mounted magazine and a shoulder stock that looked as if it were made of plumbing parts. "Winky does not ever be beaming anyone up, but Miss Luna does be having her little jokes. Winky does be ignoring Miss Luna's failing to be grasping the clear superiority of _Star Wars_. So, Miss Luna has found new friends? Winky does hope Miss Luna does not already be planning to dress them up as Klingons and take them to cons."

"I don't know if she is or not, Mistress Winky," Tovera said, "but I'll try anything once. It might be fun."

"Dear Winky sometimes forgets that I prefer Rihannsu cosplay," Luna said. "So, shall we go home?"

"So," Daniel said, "is Mistress Winky a member of your army?"

"Winky is not being that, thanking you very much, Miss Tallish Sandy-haired Girl Whoses Clotheses Wants Tailoring. Winky is being a Civilian Contractor with General the Great Harry Potter Sir's Army. Winky is being happily married to Dobby and Tink and Dorritt, and Winky did not be dating outside her own species even before Winky is being married. Winky is not meaning anything personal, but you Bigjobs is not at all being sexually attractive to us House Elves."

"Oh, I see," Daniel said. "Please pardon me if I caused any offence... it's just I've never met anyone of your species before."

"Winky is not being offended at all, Miss..."

"You can call me Daniel, if you'd like, Mistress Winky."

"Winky would be honoured, Miss Daniel. Winky does always be liking to meet other girlses with boyses nameses. And now, if everyone will be grasping hands, we wills all be going home."

Daniel took Adele's hand, and grasped Luna's. Much to Adele's surprise, Tovera took her other hand. Luna and Tovera gripped Winky's hands. The House Elf grinned. Her teeth were human-like, and one incisor was capped in gold. "On my mark, we leave. Three, Two, One, Mark."

"How long does this take?" Adele said, after a few moments when nothing seemed to happen. _If there has to be magic, why can't it at least be_ reliable _?_

"Mistress," Tovera said, "look up."

Adele did. They were still standing on green grass, but there was a massive stone building where moments earlier there had only been a copse of trees. It looked something like one of the fortresses her ancestors and Daniel's had built in the most primitive parts of the Hiatus, when Cinnabar factions had fought wars with pikes and swords forged from scrap metal and muskets made of high pressure tubing. "Oh."

"Passengers does sometimes be expecting sound effects or coloured lights, but Winky does be thinking a professional should not be showing off with unnecessary baubleses and fripperies."

"Welcome," Luna said, "to Potter Castle. Shall we go in?"

#

Adele sat on a couch, looking out a leaded glass window at a landscape that... well, if she'd been Daniel she'd have been able to say all sorts of things about it, but as she wasn't all she could say for sure was that there was a lot of green grass, a lot of grey rocks, and some scrubby things that she supposed were trees or bushes. She thought of going to ask Daniel, but Daniel was still bathing. Even if they were the same gender now, Adele wasn't going to go talk with her whilst she was covered in water and, presumably, nothing else, even if there were a shower curtain between them. She was told it was a perfectly sisterly thing to do, but... no. If nothing else, she had a bad feeling that Daniel wouldn't be able to resist using the privacy of the bath for a trial run with her new anatomy, as it were, just in case the opportunity to try it out with a partner might arise.

It was all so bloody confusing. Being transported without discernible cause or mechanism across time and space was bad enough. Having her cheerful, girl-chasing, safely platonic male best friend suddenly become a girl didn't help. Neither did having her functioning sociopath aide become an affectionate and surprisingly likeable person. But worst of all, worse than having to admit that something she had to call magic actually worked, worse than finding herself in a castle full of hormonal girl-soldiers who were members of a gigantic group marriage _cum_ military unit, worse even than Luna Potter-Lovegood's casual invitation for all three of them to bathe with her and whatever subset of her co-wives might be around at the moment, was the sneaking suspicion that her own blasted hormones had, at some point in the last day or so, decided to start functioning.

She'd been reading a book off one of the shelves in the sitting room, trying not to be disturbed by how fluidly she could now read English as long as she didn't think too much about the fact that it wasn't Universal, when instead she started thinking about the pleasant swell of Daniel's new female hips, and how water might look flowing over them, and how pretty Tovera looked where she sat in a chair, an intent yet peaceful expression on her face, using one of her numerous small knives to shape a piece of wood she'd taken from the basket by the archaic fireplace, catching the chips in a wastebasket. Not even the realisation that she was reading a complete version of the legendary lost classic _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance_ had been sufficient to banish Adele's distraction. _For the love of the Redeemer, I'm starting to wish I were religious. Swearing might be more satisfying if it actually_ meant _something to me._

The three of them had been given a suite of their own, with a sitting room, a bath, and a bedroom. Adele had thought of asking for individual accommodations, but she recognised that it would be unwise to separate in this unknown environment. Even taking their hosts' open friendliness at face value, it would be better for their psychological health to remain in close proximity to each other. The fact that she now seemed to like having Daniel and Tovera within sight, if not arm's length, of herself at all times had nothing to do with it.

For a moment, she'd even thought of suggesting they should bathe together. The bathtub in their suite was more than large enough for three. But she'd beaten the mad thought down; that level of clinginess was not something Adele Mundy had any business exhibiting, no matter how strange the rest of the universe might have become. Daniel and Tovera had insisted she take the first shower, and she'd done so with her usual swiftness and efficiency, and absolutely no pausing to look at herself in the mirror and contemplate if anyone at all might ever find her attractive.

Daniel came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a terrycloth dressing gown and positively glowing. "It's all yours, Tovera. Enjoy!"

"I'm sure I will, Mistress Leary," Tovera said. "Thank you."

"Oh, and Tovera... since we're not on duty, and we three seem to be all there is of the RCN here... you could call me Daniel. If you'd like to, that is."

"I think I would. Thank you, Daniel." Tovera's smile was still startling in its sweetness.

Daniel sat down next to Adele. "So, interesting reading?"

"Somewhat. In our time, it's considered one of the great lost works of ancient philosophy. However... well, I'm no philosopher, so I suppose I've no business saying it's a bit vapid, even if it does seem that way to me. I do wish I could show it to Mistress Boileau." A pang ran through her at the thought of her old mentor. They'd not corresponded since Adele left Kostroma at the end of her fifteen years of exile, heading home to Cinnabar aboard the RCS _Princess Cecile_. Adele knew perfectly well that even one of the Alliance's greatest scholars, a living national treasure, might be... inconvenienced if the Fifth Bureau, the Alliance's secret police, security, and intelligence agency, discovered she was exchanging letters with an RCN officer who also worked for their Cinnabar counterparts.

Daniel laid a hand on her shoulder. It was a greater physical intimacy than they would normally share, but she didn't mind. After a moment, Adele said "That was kind of you. What you said to Tovera, I mean."

"It seemed the right thing to do. If Woetjans were here, I'd probably say the same to her, although I doubt she'd listen to me."

There was a long silence, but a comfortable one. At last, Adele said, barely more than whispering, "I miss them, Daniel."

"So do I." It felt surprisingly natural to put their arms about each other. And when Tovera came out, in her own dressing gown, it seemed only right that she joined in their embrace.

"Mistress," Tovera said at last, "I hope you don't mind my asking, but did you kiss Luna?"

"No. I... I don't mind your asking at all, but why?"

"It's just... you seem to be healing, yourself. You've never had the same missing piece that I had--that was why I could use you to help make up for it--but there was always something that I saw in other people, something that I didn't see in you. And now... Well, I hope I'm not offending you. There's a lot of things I still don't know, about what to say and how to make people happy."

"No, Tovera. I'm not upset with you, not in any way. I just don't know what to say. Everything's so confusing, and I'm... I'm feeling things that don't make sense, and... Well, there are things I don't know, either."

Daniel was holding them both, now, long arms wrapped around them. "You don't have to know everything, Adele. It's all right."

Adele almost told them she didn't need to kiss Luna, because they were healing her all by themselves. But there were some things she still couldn't bring herself to say. So she hugged Tovera a little closer and squeezed Daniel's hand, and hoped that meant what she thought it should. They didn't seem to mind it, at least.

There was one thing she could say. "Tovera... as Daniel said, we're not on duty, and we're all there is of, well, _home_ here. So, would you call me Adele? That is, if you'd like to?"

"I would like to, Adele. Thank you." Tovera's face glowed. For a moment, Adele thought Tovera might kiss her, and she couldn't decide if she was disappointed or not when she didn't.

They stayed like that together until a very small person who might have been one of Winky's spouses or relatives knocked on the door and told them they were invited join General Harry Potter Sir's Army in their mess for the evening meal. "All right, then," Daniel said. "Mistress Winky told we'd find a complete wardrobe for each of us in the bedroom closets. So, shall we?"

Adele nearly asked how Winky would have got their sizes, let alone put together even a couple of outfits for each of them in the past four hours. But, on reflection, the answer was obvious. _Magic. Why did it have to be magic?_

She followed Daniel into the bedroom. There was a single massive four-poster bed. She shouldn't be surprised, since, to hear Luna tell it, she, her husband, and the entire army all slept together on a single barracks-sized mattress. _Daniel and Tovera can have the bed, if they like, and I'll take the couch in the sitting room. Well... maybe one of those Elf people could put a camp bed in here for me. But that's as close as I dare sleep._

Last night had been a special circumstance. Under these conditions, Adele wouldn't dare share bed and blankets with her friends. With her luck, she'd wake up with her hand on Daniel's breast, or find she'd given Tovera a sloppy kiss on the back of her neck.

The closets had names on them. Daniel walked to hers, slipping off her robe as she went. _She has a really nice rear, doesn't--what am I thinking?_ "Eeep... Daniel!"

She turned. _Nice front, as well,_ some irrelevant and frustrating part of Adele's mind commented. "Yes, Adele?"

"You're naked. I mean, obviously you know you're naked, but..."

"We're all girls now, aren't we, Adele? Besides, there's not that much privacy on a corvette. We've all changed clothes in sight of each other, in the course of duty. And I even had different equipment at the time."

"Well, yes, but I didn't have horm--I mean, I didn't fancy--that is, we weren't _looking_ at each other, back then."

Daniel had put on her knickers whilst she was speaking, and was already donning her trousers. They looked like a good replica of the grey RCN second class uniform, and Adele wondered how the House Elves had known. Unfortunately, trousers did nothing to shield Adele's eyes from her friend's recently acquired breasts. _They're about an A-cup, I think, and perfectly shaped. For that matter, I always used to think that 'coral-coloured nipples' didn't exist outside of bad novels._

"You're being kind of silly, Adele," Tovera said. "I'm tempted to tickle you, but I'm not sure I know how to do it properly and I don't want to make us late for supper with our new friends while I try to work it out."

Adele looked over at the unrepentantly grinning Tovera. At least her former aide was wearing trousers and a singlet.

"I _am_ sorry for shocking you, Adele. If it makes it easier for you, I promise I'll not look whilst you're changing."

"It's all right, Daniel. And... I'm sorry for being so ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous at all, Adele. We have been through some rather drastic changes." Daniel gestured at herself--Adele was glad she'd at least put on a bra, although the taut lines of her stomach and the dimple of her navel were still a bit distracting. With an effort, she wrenched her eyes away from Daniel and turned to her own closet.

The Elves had made a set of Greys for her as well, complete with the little crossed lightning bolts of a Signals Officer on the collar tabs. In addition, there were all sorts of other clothes: blouses, trousers, skirts, buttonless knit shirts with simple round collars and remarkably accurate, but for English writing in place of Universal, renditions of the seals of the RCN, the Academic Collections on Blythe, and the Library of Celsus on Cinnabar... There was even an evening gown, of all things. Adele opened her robe and put on a pair of knickers, then reached for the trousers to the Greys. That done, she hung the robe from the hook on the closet door, trying not to wonder if Tovera was watching her whilst she put on bra and singlet and tunic.

There was a very non-regulation fitted pocket for her data unit on the right thigh of her trousers, just like the customised Greys in her own footlocker back on the _Princess Cecile_. There was also an open-topped black leather belt holster, sized to hold her little pistol, which didn't quite make sense; as sidearms weren't worn with Greys, she typically carried the weapon in her side pocket, just as she would have done in civilian dress. A note had been slipped into the holster, which read: 

"Dear Missy Adele,

We is not minding anyones wearing sidearms in the mess at alls, in fact we is very much having the contrary opinionses, but we is thinking it is being more politest if they is wearing thems in plain sight. We is hoping this is being suitable--Winky is saying Missy Adele is shooting with her lefty hand and liking strong-side draw, but if Missy Adele is having other preferences when open-carrying any Civilian Contractor Elf will be being very glad to change it to however Missy Adele might be liking it. 

Thanking yous so very muchly,

Housy Elfish Contractings Services, Ltd."

Adele couldn't help but smile as she buttoned her tunic and put on the holster. She turned away from the closet. Daniel and Tovera were standing side by side, hand in hand. "Adele," Daniel said after a moment's pause, "you're gorg... I mean, you look very nice."

"Oh. Umm... thanks. You also. I just hope we're allowed to sit together, I mean, me being a Warrant Officer and you being a Lieutenant." Daniel was stunning, as a matter of fact. The Greys fit her perfectly, as if they'd been made by one of the exclusive civilian tailors who supplied dress Whites to well-heeled RCN officers, although not even the wealthiest admirals wore bespoke Greys. The Elves had even reproduced the ribbons for Daniel's numerous decorations.

"Of course we'll sit together," Tovera said. "Now that I have friends, nobody will keep me away from them." She wasn't wearing uniform, exactly, but an outfit that that superficially resembled her usual no-colour clothes, save for being made of top-quality silk with subtle accents in silver and gold thread. Her miniature submachine gun hung at her right side in a polished leather holster, and the largest of her knives balanced it on the left. The fit was perfect, just loose enough to allow freedom of movement, but nipped in at the waist to show that Tovera's slender body didn't entirely lack womanly curves.

"If anyone tries to stop you sitting with me, I'll teach them what it means to cross a Leary of Bantry, and I do hope you'll not mind allowing me a few minutes in which to do so before teaching them what it means to cross a Mundy of Chatsworth," Daniel said. "But I can't imagine this army of theirs objects to fraternisation between the ranks, with them all being married to each other and all of that."

They walked back into the sitting room, where Adele collected her data unit and pistol. The holster was an exact fit for the weapon, and just as accessible as her usual pocket carry; the trousers were tailored so perfectly as to completely conceal her data unit.

"So," Daniel said, "shall we?" She offered one arm to Adele and the other to Tovera, and they stepped out into the corridor.

Another Elf was waiting for them. This one wore a black leather jacket and breeches, and carried a submachine gun much like Winky's. "I is being Dorritt," she said, "and I is being your guide--but wait, Missy Daniel is not being carrying a sidearm! Is there being a problem? Is Missy Daniel needing her weapon repaired or replaced?"

"It's all right, Mistress Dorritt. I'm a naval officer, you see, so I don't usually carry a pistol, and I have to confess I'm only barely adequate when it comes to shooting one. My sort of combat usually means sitting at a keyboard and launching missiles at other ships across several thousand miles of space."

"She's also very good with her hands and feet, or a length of pipe," Tovera said. "Her technique's not particularly refined, from a professional viewpoint, but she's got a great deal of raw talent and practical skill."

Dorritt's ears twitched and flapped in apparent alarm or vexation, setting their many silver, gold, and steel rings to jingling. "This is not being right! Honest citizen sapients must be carrying sidearms! Is moral philosophy, see. A host does be carrying a weapon to be saying to guests: 'See, I is ready to be defending you as if you is being a member of my ownses household.' And a guest does be carrying a weapon to be saying to hosts: 'See, I is ready to be defending you as if youses household is being mine.' Is basis of civil society of free sapients."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Mistress Dorritt. We're not from here, and I didn't know your customs..."

"Is being all right, Missy Daniel. Dorritt be finding you just the thing. Dorritt is thinking youses native culture is liking the electricky-motivy weaponses, yes? Like Missy Adele's pretty little piece? We is only just learnings about themses, and Dorritt is not having enough time to be building you one before dinner, and Dorritt's husband Dobby, who is being even better as a gunsmith, is not having quite enough time, either, but maybe you is being happy with .455 Webley revolver? Or .45 Colt M1911A1? Both is being classics. But maybe is being awkward to handle for girlses what is being used to electricky-motivy pistols, Dorritt fears."

"I'm a fair hand for wing-shooting with a shotgun, and I'm rather better than average with an impeller, or even a chemical propellent rifle, but that's my only real talent with firearms, I'm afraid."

"And rifleses and shotguns is getting in way at dinner table, unless they is being sawns-offs, and thoses is not being very elegants..."

"I'd imagine Daniel would be pretty good with a sword," Tovera said. "She has a talent with a baton, and there are distinct similarities between the two. And as a bonus she'd look exceedingly dashing."

"I do know how to carry a sword without bumping it into people, and even how to sit down with one," Daniel said. "There's a handful of ceremonies where one wears a sword with Whites; they're not likely to happen more than once in a hundred years, but the Academy taught us all enough to not make fools of ourselves, just in case. I can even fence, a bit."

"Very copacetic!" Dorritt said. "I is being back in ten point threesy niner seconds." She popped away and returned with a straight-bladed sword with a plain sheet-metal hilt--a bit like a fencing sabre, at least to Adele's not-particularly-experienced eye--in a lacquered metal sheath. "Is this making Missy Daniel happy?"

Daniel took the sword and attached the scabbard to her belt. Apparently reading something in the House Elf's eyes and posture, she drew the weapon, tested its balance, and whirled the blued steel blade through a short sequence of cuts, thrusts, and parries before sheathing it. "Excellent. I'm delighted, Mistress Dorritt. Thank you."

"Dorritt is being happy that Missy Daniel is being happy, and is hoping she wills be carrying her new sword for many yearses. So, the mess is being this ways."

The mess-hall proved to be a great room with stone walls, decorated with woven tapestries and suits of steel armour. For a moment Adele thought it was open to the sky; then she realised that the vaulted ceiling had simply been made to look like a starry sky, with drifting clouds and a pale sliver of moon. It might have been a hologram, which seemed an odd contrast with the rather primitive look of the stone walls and the massive wooden dining table and benches.

"Good evening!" Before Adele properly knew what was happening, Luna had hugged Tovera and was hugging Daniel. The blonde girl turned to her, and Adele began to offer her hand. An instant later, she found herself wrapped in Luna's arms. "It's very nice to see you--may I call you Adele?"

She began to splutter some request for Mistress Potter-Lovegood to please unhand her. But... _Bother it, she_ is _rather pleasant to hug._ "Only if I may call you Luna."

"Of course you may. Everyone else does. You're welcome to call me other things as well, if you'd like to, but I do have to say I would prefer it if you didn't call me 'Snookums.' I think that might embarrass you rather severely, and I'd hate to see you feeling so uncomfortable."

"I have to admit it would." What else could she say, after all?

There was a commotion at the door. A tall, black-haired girl came through, carrying a smaller, brown-haired one in her arms. "Put me down, Millie! Is this what you call military discipline?" The smaller girl was struggling, or at least pretending to.

"Yes," said the tall girl. "Standing Order Number One: Hermione is not to be left in her office during dinner, because our adorable, sexy, and very commanding Executive Wife needs to keep up her strength in order to perform her duties."

"All right. You've got me out the office. I can walk--eeeep!" Millie, if that was her name, tickled Hermione's belly, then swung her easily up onto her shoulder, face down. It looked as if Millie's free hand was snaking towards the other girl's waistband. _I really hope she realises there are strangers in the room. I don't mind anything that consenting adults do in private, but I really, truly don't want to see that beautiful Amazon swiftly and decisively pull down her sister-wife's trousers and knickers and give us all a view of that deliciously rounded bottom whilst she--stop it, Adele!_

Millie's eyes swept across their little group. "Oh. Good evening, honoured guests!" Her hand hastily retreated from whatever she might have been about to do. "I'll greet you properly in a minute, but first I've got to make a delivery to our general. He can't have his supper until his second-in-command reports in." She was at least six foot four, Adele realised, with a open friendly strong-jawed face and a little ring of some lustrous dark grey metal in her septum. _She reminds me of Bosun Woetjans... a gorgeous version of Woetjans, with hair down to her thighs..._ Adele shivered; there must have been a sudden chill in the room.

"You could put me down, Millie."

"Yes, I could do that, Hermione." Millie swung her down into her arms again, Hermione wrapped her legs round her co-wife's waist, and the two shared a very long kiss. Adele couldn't figure out how the tall girl could walk so confidently with her vision obstructed like that. Perhaps she had extensive practice.

"That's Hermione and Millicent," Luna said. "Hermione takes her duties very seriously, even in barracks. All the rest of us take our duty to make her relax, take care of herself, and have fun very seriously. Usually that involves giving her mind-blowing orgasms, but at times like this it means making sure she is both present and eating, which is almost as much fun as the mind-blowing orgasms. Is it like that in the RCN?"

"Not so much, alas," Tovera said. "On the _Sissie_ there were a few occasions when someone had to make Adele eat, but usually Daniel took care of it. As far as mind-blowing orgasms go, I'm rather sad to say we hadn't any protocols on the subject."

Millicent carried Hermione over to the table and deposited her in someone's lap. "That's our husband, Harry," Luna said. "Isn't he dishy? Come with me and I'll introduce you." Adele hadn't seen a human male since sometime yesterday, but she'd known plenty of them and she'd never let them intimidate her, much less entice her. She wasn't sure why she felt a strange tingle in her midsection at the thought of meeting this one. He was kissing Hermione, as thoroughly as Millicent had done. The girls around them were cheering. She pushed him on his back and pinned him to the bench. The girls cheered louder. Somehow he reversed their position, and those girls who were drinking from mugs began pounding them on the table. As near as Adele could tell, their lips hadn't unlocked since their first contact.

A red-haired girl in black leathers was passing by. Luna caught her by the elbow and pulled her into an embrace. "Good evening, darling Ginevra. How was your day?"

"It was nice, sweetest Looney. I took the Vincent Black Lightning out for a run, and I think I've finally got the charms work on her engine where it ought to be. I still wish we could give Harry his dad's actual bike, but this one's the next best thing. How was yours, my love?"

"Oh, it was very pleasant. The interdimensional transit detectors went off, so I ended up going to America, and I saw a Greater Puce-bellied Nargle in summer plumage. But more importantly, I found us three new friends. They come from a place called Cinnabar, which apparently doesn't have any magic but does have ships that sail in space. Daniel, Adele, Tovera, this is my darling wife Ginevra. We grew up together, but I'm happy to say we're not sisters, because incest isn't one of my kinks."

"Lovely to meet you! I'm Ginny Weasley Potter. You're welcome to call me Ginevra if you'd like to, but Luna's the only one who does, most of the time." Before Adele properly knew what was happening, she was being hugged again. It was starting to grow on her.

She looked back at the table. Harry and Hermione had finally stopped kissing, and were drinking water from quart-sized containers. Suddenly, a tawny-red streak crossed the room and landed on Hermione who gave her a kiss, then gently pushed her onto Harry. It took Adele a minute to accept what she was seeing. _A girl? A cat? A catgirl, I suppose. Luna did say they were married to someone like that._ She had big triangular ears pierced for ruby eardrops and multiple rings, reddish blonde hair tied back in a single thick plait, and soft golden fur where a human would have had bare skin, at least in every place that Adele could see which, considering as she was wearing cut-off shorts with a hole in the seat for her long thin tail and a top that looked to be made of handkerchiefs and string, was the better part of her. There was a tuft at the end of the tail, the same colour as her hair. She tickled Hermione's chin with it before looping her tail round the brown-haired girl's calf.

Whilst the catgirl was kissing Harry, two more girls latched onto Hermione. One was surprisingly ordinary, a plumply pretty young woman with strawberry-coloured hair in pigtails, dressed in fatigues much like the ones Luna had worn this morning, but for their being a solid light green. The other had dark skin, outsized ears, and masses of platinum-blonde curls, through which a pair of little horns poked out. Adele would have wondered if they were eccentric hair ornaments, except for the fact that she also appeared to have cloven hooves instead of feet. _And I do hope those are leather breeches with the fur left on, but I've got a bad feeling she's wearing nothing but her gunbelt and that silk scarf round her neck. I never realised three people could kiss each other at the same time. I most definitely do_ not _wonder what that feels like. Not at all. Not one little bit._

Dinner was a blur. The food, like Luna's breakfast, was a blend of the almost homelike and the very odd; Adele couldn't help but wonder how much of it was native to these people's culture and how much of it was eccentricity on the part of the House Elves and their employers or siblings or whatever the Potter Army actually were to them.

Or perhaps it was better to say "these people's cultures," as they seemed to have a wide variety of origins. Not only were there human beings with every conceivable cast of features and shade of skin and hair, there were a number of girls who, judging by their horns, tails, furry pelts, or brow ridges, belonged to other species entirely. The range of choices filling the silver and copper platters and bowls that appeared and disappeared on the massive table was a good match for them.

One of the dishes Adele sampled combined dried fruit and nuts with chunks of a meat that was probably lamb, all cooked in a viciously spiced dark red sauce. It was served over grits. Adele drained her waterglass twice, feeling grateful that it immediately refilled itself. _I'm glad I only took a spoonful. I wonder if someone made a mistake in the kitchen?_ Apparently they hadn't: there were two tall pale girls with faces like beautiful birds of prey, both dressed in chamois shirts and leather breeches with turquoise and violet scarves loosely knotted round their necks, and a pair of identical twins, dark-skinned girls wearing brightly coloured and elaborately folded dresses, who took generous second helpings.

"Freya's tits, mah darlin' Gwen, how long's it been since we's had real old-fashioned Draka-style cooking?" said the blonde pale girl, clasping her red-haired friend round the shoulders. "My mama came up on a plantation outside Archona, been in the family ever since the Landtaking, and I swear my Oma's dear Cook, Tantie Jemima, might've made this wonderful lamb and grits." She spoke in a peculiar accent, a guttural drawl, that wasn't quite like anything Adele had heard before. Her blue eyes seemed to glow of their own accord, but obviously that was a trick of the light.

"Not at all, dear Winnie," a twin said. "This dish is obviously derived from the Kashmiri tradition. The Elves served it over grits as an act of culinary irony. It's not a bad combination, although I prefer rice." Her accent was light and musical, almost like that of some Cinnabar protectorate worlds. Adele wondered if English were a native language for any of the four.

The debate became heated, and Adele quickly lost track of who was arguing for what. It took her almost three minutes to realise that one pale girl and one twin had taken each side. She feared they might come to blows, but nobody else seemed to be paying any attention at all.

A House Elf popped onto the table. This one somehow seemed male, and Adele wondered if he might be Winky and Dorritt's husband. "Excuse Dobby, Missies Gwen and Winnie and Padma and Parvati, but we is not getting the recipe from anywhere in the Indian Subcontinents and neither from the Dominations of the Drakas. We is borrowing from Rahjoon Cahjoon Beta." Adele wondered if that was a planet, a restaurant, or something else entirely.

"Thanks, Dobby!" said one of the twins.

"It's delicious!" Gwen said, giving the Elf a peck on the forehead before he could escape. "We all hope y'all will be making it again soon. An' please give yo' lovely wives ouah compliments." The apparent argument collapsed in a four-girl pile of giggles, hugs, and kisses. Adele looked away quickly, because a pair of twins kissing the same redhead and blonde seemed disturbingly close to a pair of twins kissing each other. _For that matter, there's something about Gwen and Winnie that almost makes them look like sisters or first cousins, although they don't act like it. I_ hope _it's just because they come from some place with a very homogeneous population._

She'd been introduced to a sizeable fraction of the army, but couldn't begin to keep all the names straight. General Harry Potter was easy, of course, being the only male, a green-eyed young man in his late teens, whose black hair seemed kept under a semblance of control only by being long enough to plait. He didn't look or behave much like any general in the Land Forces of the Republic or the Alliance Regular Army, but he did seem to suit this insane combination of fighting force and family.

He didn't have any of Daniel's old suavity, which surprised her until she reflected that, however many women Daniel might have slept with back when she was a man, he would sooner have taken a rusted-out cattle freighter armed with only a rubber catapult and a packet of firecrackers into action against a pair of battleships with full missile magazines than commit to any of them, much less the entire lot. Harry, on the other hand, was openly besotted with each and every one of his wives. Adele couldn't help but conclude that the _wives_ were the ones who'd decided Harry would have a harem; he struck her as someone who, under other circumstances, might have been faithfully and happily monogamous.

He was also disturbingly attractive. Adele decided that the only thing worse than being attracted to Daniel and Tovera was being attracted to a male who was hardly more than half her own age. Then again, all his wives were, as far as she could tell, little more than half her age--at least if one thought biologically rather than chronologically--and disturbingly attractive.

Hermione pulled a stack of papers from her pocket midway through dinner and begun scribbling on them with some sort of wooden stylus. After five minutes, Ginny began kissing her, first on the neck and then, when she turned her head, on the lips. After a moment Hermione put down the stylus and twined her fingers in Ginny's red hair, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. Meanwhile, Luna slipped the writing materials off the table and put them _somewhere_ ; it looked for all the world as if she'd inserted them into an invisible pigeonhole. When Ginny had finished kissing her, Harry was ready to feed her a forkful of steak wrapped in pastry from his own plate.

"I would've put it away in a minute, loves," Hermione said, once she'd chewed and swallowed.

"Darlin' Hermione of all ouah hearts," Gwen said, "we cain't let you starve yourself. It's standin' orders, sweetlin'. Five minutes taking notes, and then we makes yo' finish your dinner."

"Oh. That was five minutes? I thought it was only about ninety seconds."

"They did not stop you until 5.19 of your minutes had passed, dear and esteemed senior wife," said a girl in simple brown-green robes who was sitting across the table from Adele. "You must eat. _Mnhei'sahe_ requires us to keep you in good health." She had pale, faintly greenish skin, pointed ears, and dramatically sloping eyebrows, and carried a gently curved sword with a black jade hilt and black lacquered scabbard. She might have looked severe, but for the rainbow of ribbons plaited into her deep black hair and the little furry winged creature that sat on her shoulder.

"Oh. Thanks, dear Vriha. And thank you, all of you, my loves."

"I'll fetch your notes out of hammerspace tomorrow," Luna said. "You'd already written everything you needed to. If we'd let you continue, you'd have started repeating yourself, and that's only appealing in song. Or when having sex, of course."

Hermione caught Luna's fingers and raised them to her lips. Then she nuzzled Harry's shoulder. "That Beef Wellington is delicious, love. Could I have some more, please?"

He looked at her plate, which appeared to have a serving of exactly the same dish on it. Then he fed her another bite from his. And another. After a moment, she began feeding him from her own plate.

"Excuse me? Is this a Terran ritual I have not seen before?" Vriha said. It took Adele a moment to realise the point-eared girl was talking to her.

"I'm not sure," Adele said. "I'm not from Earth, either."

"Oh. Well, it is charming. I would offer to feed you, but we are not married to each other and I do not know if it would be honourable. I hope that this does not offend, bother, or trouble you."

"That's all right. I'm Adele, by the way. Adele Mundy. From Cinnabar."

"Vriha t'Meihan Potter, from Ch'Havran. I am pleased to meet you, Adele." She held out her hand; Adele couldn't decide if they were meant to touch fingertips, grip wrists, or something else entirely, but a handshake seemed to suffice.

Adele looked over at Hermione and Harry again. The Executive Wife seemed slightly more reserved than the others, if no less friendly; she'd been perfectly content to shake Adele's hand in greeting, although she returned Tovera's Luna-like glomp as cheerfully as Luna herself did. _If I'd grown up differently, with less need to retreat and friends who dragged me out to play once in a while, would I have ended up something like her?_ Adele shook the thought away. It was as useless as wondering what might have been if Daniel had been her own age, his father, Speaker of the Senate Corder Leary, hadn't crushed the Three Circles Conspiracy and killed her entire family in the process, and they'd met as two young scholars in the stacks at Celsus, or even over cacao or cocktails at a department reception.

"I'd offer to feed you, myself," Daniel whispered in her ear, "but I'm afraid you might be embarrassed."

Adele didn't know how to respond, so she smiled as broadly as she could and said nothing. Daniel seemed pleased enough with that.

Dinner led into drinks and a free-form party in the Great Hall, where little ever-changing groups of wives danced, sang songs, played games ranging from cards to darts, or sparred either empty-handed or with a wide variety of implements. All the sparring matches ended with lingering kisses on the lips; the girls waiting their own turns applauded those as enthusiastically as they did the matches, and she tried not to wonder if an orgy might have broken out but for the presence of guests.

Adele simply wandered about with Daniel and Tovera, observing everything and feeling more at peace than she'd ever felt in a social gathering before. Even someone as cynical as herself had to concede that no-one was judging anyone here and that all of them genuinely liked each other. She couldn't imagine how such a large harem could avoid ferocious competition for better access to the sole husband, or at least a constant low-intensity struggle between jealous little alliances of wives, but it was clear that this one had less conflict than many lasting two-partner marriages did. _I understand that they're all bisexual, but still, relieving their sexual tensions with each other shouldn't help_ that _much._

Harry circulated through the room at a steady rate. Every time Adele saw him, he had a different pair or trio of wives in his arms _._ They appeared to particularly enjoy sitting in his lap, although at one point she saw him sitting in Millicent's lap, with Ginny beside him, Luna in his own lap, and a diminutive girl with brown dreadlocks, blue-tipped antennae, and gossamer wings in Ginny's lap. There was only one time all evening when she saw him with both arms and knees free, when he played a long-necked round-bodied stringed instrument and sang a ribald song about the sexuality of hedgehogs. His technique was adequate, as far as Adele could tell, and he had a pleasant if unremarkable tenor voice. _I'm pleased by that, actually--if he were a professional-grade musician and brought tears to my eyes, the whole situation would seem just a little too perfect to be real._

"Oh, good song," Daniel said. "I'll have to learn that one, if you'd not mind teaching me."

"Do you sing, then, Daniel?" Harry said. "Would you?"

"I... well, my voice used to be a lot lower, so it may not be worth much now."

Adele had never expected to see Daniel Leary acting like a blushing schoolgirl. _Well, I suppose I should be glad I'm not the only one who's affected by the Potter family's collective aura._

"You sounded fine when you were in the shower," Tovera said. "Let's give them something from home. 'The Bouncing Boys of Lyme,' maybe? If you'll start us off, I expect Adele and I can manage the harmony."

Tovera proved to be a lyric soprano, and might've sounded better taking the lead over Daniel's new mezzo voice, but between the three of them they managed to make it work. Adele had never consciously learnt the spaceport and shipboard standard, but the combination of her childhood singing lessons, a near-eidetic memory, and hearing the song many times in the course of her years in the RCN proved sufficient to get her through to the end. And standing with her arm around Daniel and her hand on Tovera's shoulder gave her an unexpected boost of confidence. _Perhaps there's something to be said for having hormones, after all._

Towards the end of the evening, she found herself lying back on a couch with a glass of something delicious that didn't seem at all alcoholic beside her, looking up at the stars of the sky-ceiling. Daniel, with a lap full of Tovera, was almost-cuddled against her side, not touching but so close that Adele could feel her warmth. "I have to admit I'm fascinated by the ceiling here," Adele mused aloud. "There was a still-functioning pre-Hiatus planetarium in the technical museum of the Academic Collections, which was very impressive--they could do some things with holographic technology that not even the finest engineers on Cinnabar or Blythe can match--but I swear this one is even more realistic. I'm amazed to see such an advanced hologram this early in history."

"Well, it's not _exactly_ a hologram," Hermione said. Adele sat up slightly and turned to face her. The brown-haired girl was reclining in a pile of pillows with Luna, who'd stripped down to trousers and bra for sparring and hadn't put her shirt back on, Gwen and Winnie, both of whom were also dressed for sparring but hadn't bothered with bras, and a tiny girl with curly hair and immensely furry feet who was wearing nothing but a suede kilt. Adele felt strangely proud of her ability to see their bare breasts without blushing, stammering, or very much staring, despite having spent more than thirty years being completely indifferent to female and male anatomy alike.

"Oh? What is it, then?"

"Well, it's all built on a series of runes, which set up a permanent projection charm. That's an old, old method--magical folk have been using it for tavern signs and theatrical scenery since at least the late Roman Empire. But the really interesting bit is the Semblance Charm, which is linked to the sky above us but could, in theory, be set to any point on the planet, given sufficiently precise mapping techniques and a good knowledge of ley lines. And that's where we get into an interesting historical conundrum." Hermione paused, sipping at her own drink.

"Hmm?"

"Well, the prevailing scholarly opinion is that the Potter Castle ceiling was inspired by that of the Great Hall of Hogwarts, which was made by Jehan de Tours and Godgyfu Langland in 1412. But the odd thing is that the primary runic system used here is the Neo-Northumbrian Futhark, which runecrafters throughout Britain had abandoned by about 1350 in favour of a Swedish innovation, the Revised Elder Futhark." Gwen laid her head in Hermione's lap, and the brunette began stroking her as if she were a cat. Gwen began to purr.

"Oh? Couldn't this one have been made by someone who was... out of step with the prevailing technical trends?" _Interesting. She's still purring. Perhaps it's not a joke._

Hermione smiled. "Well, that's been the general opinion ever since 1936, when Roderick Binns published _Standing Illusions in High Mediaeval Britain and France: an exercise in historical runology._ He used the term 'mere provincial archaism,' if I recall correctly. But Luna and I have discovered that Binns completely misinterpreted the maker's mark. He mistook it for the mark of Martin Wellfleet, a journeyman who was trained by one of Langland's former apprentices, but we're convinced it belongs to a previously unrecognised crafter, and it's very much in the style of documented _Thirteenth_ Century runemasters' marks." In her intellectual passion, she'd stopped stroking, and the redhead made a tiny yowling noise. "Sorry, Gwen."

Adele couldn't help but laugh. The redhead's ear cocked towards her; it was larger than normal, and far more mobile. _I thought those two were purely human, at first, but now I'm starting to wonder. For that matter, why are all these aliens so_ human _, once one ignores tails and horns and pointed ears and such? All of the aliens in our time were so much more, well, alien._ She worried that the pale girls might take offence, but Winnie was laughing as well, and Gwen's purrs, as Hermione resumed stroking her, were mixed with giggles.

"In any event," Hermione said, "we've found the same mark on a number of previously unattributed runeworks from between 1260 and 1320, which, when combined with a reference to "the Potteres sterry halle" in a letter written circa 1325 by Lady Dian de Malfoys to her sister Beatrice Peverell, leads us to believe our ceiling predates the Hogwarts one. We're writing an article, of course, but we can't seem to track down the guild records that we need to make an airtight case. Our evidence is still too circumstantial for the _Journal of Historical Spellcraft Studies_ , you see. I'm hoping that with the end of hostilities earlier this spring we'll have more time for research, assuming, of course, that some idiot doesn't declare himself a Dark Lord in the next six months."

Adele couldn't follow half of Hermione's terminology, and she wasn't entirely sure what the dates meant, but she was entranced with the realisation that here was a scholar of her own calibre. A beautiful scholar, with bushy brown hair and warm cinnamon eyes and an intriguing birthmark on her midriff that sometimes showed for an instant before she tugged her shirt back down into place. _I wonder if she recites ancient chronicles from memory whilst she rides Harry, wearing nothing but an academic cap and a fine coating of sweat, with Luna planting little kisses all over her body and maybe that fascinating Vriha tickling her--stop it, Adele!_

Shortly thereafterwards, everyone began heading for bed. After a brief whispered consultation with Harry and Luna, Hermione offered to guide the newcomers back to their suite.

"Well, here we are," Hermione said outside the door to their quarters. "If you need anything at all, please call the House Elves. It took me years to accept it, myself, but it truly does make them happy to serve people, and they don't sleep in the same way as we do so you needn't worry about disturbing their rest.

"If you need me or Harry or any of the wives, the Elves will bring us. That's probably a better idea than trying to find us yourselves, because we're going to be... well, doing what married folk do."

"Of course," Daniel said smoothly. "Thank you, Hermione. Have a good night."

Much to Adele's surprise, Hermione hugged all three of them. Even more to Adele's surprise, she herself _liked_ being hugged by Hermione. Tovera and Daniel went inside, but Adele lingered for a moment outside the door. "Ah... might I ask you something?"

"Of course, Adele."

"I hope it's not too personal, but... how do you keep track of everyone? I mean, all these co-wives of yours... I have a good memory, but I'm sure I couldn't match half the names with the right faces, even with practice."

Hermione smiled. "I'm sure you're getting tired of hearing this, Adele, but it's magic. We're all of us married to each other, not simply to Harry, and magical marriage includes a mental and emotional linkage, you could say."

"Do you mean you're actually telepathic?"

"Not without effort, and we're certainly not a group mind, as I suspect you're very politely not asking."

Adele couldn't help but smile. "Yes. Although I didn't _think_ it was probable that both you and Luna could be part of the same gestalt entity."

Hermione laughed politely. "Thank God! I like Luna's mind just the way it is, and my mind just the way it is, and Harry's, and Ruby Brandybuck's--ooh, she's playing with Gwen and Winnie right now--and, well, everyone's. I suppose the best way of putting it is that we don't usually snoop on each others' thoughts, but we're always aware of each others' feelings, and... well, we know each other. In more than just the Biblical sense, although Luna would want me to stress that we don't neglect that one at all."

"Oh. Right. Well, thank you so much, Hermione. Good night." And before she knew what she was doing Adele had leant forward and kissed her cheek. Hermione kissed Adele's cheek, as smoothly and as naturally as if she'd been expecting it, turned, and walked away. Adele stood, watching her, pressing a fingertip to the spot where she'd been kissed. _Goodness, she has a pretty rump._

Shaking herself, she stepped in the door, and was promptly ambushed by Daniel and Tovera, who converged on her from both sides and kissed her cheeks. She hugged them back--it would've been cruel not to. "I'm exhausted," she said. "I suppose I'll sleep on the couch in here, and you two can have the bed, if you like."

"There's room in the bed for all of us, Adele," Daniel said.

"It's all right. I... well, the two of you seem to be getting closer, and I don't want to be in the way if you, err... decide to do something about it."

"I don't think we will, at least not tonight," Tovera said, "but if we did, you'd not be in the way at all."

"Very much the opposite, in fact," Daniel said. "Adele... I think all any of us should do for a few nights to come is sleep, considering all the sudden changes we've already been through, but... I never appreciated you properly. I'm sorry for that."

"You're very kind, Daniel, but I know your type. I'm too old for you. You were born a few weeks before my seventh birthday. I was practically an adult, leaving Cinnabar to go to school, when you were barely big enough to fire a shotgun without Hogg bracing you."

"Adele... aside from the fact that I was a bit of a git, as a man, and never had the sense to see that sleeping with a friend, waking up with her the next morning, and doing the same thing the next night and the next would be infinitely better than sneaking away at dawn after a bit of fun with some lightskirt, have you looked in the mirror today? You weren't old before, not really, but now... Well, as near as I can tell, all three of us are the same age, in biological terms, and that's somewhere between seventeen and nineteen Terran years."

"Oh." She peered at Daniel's temples, looking for the few silvery hairs she'd spotted hiding amongst the tawny blond ones in the past year or so. They were gone, and there weren't any of the fine wrinkles on Daniel's forehead or in the corners of her eyes that had been on her male face when they stepped off the _Princess Cecile_ and onto the quay in the harbour of La Rochelle.

"Did you ever notice that you have freckles, Adele?" Tovera said, holding up her hand. "May I?"

Adele's mouth was very dry, and it took her a moment to get the words out. "Yes, you may."

"Here, and here, and here." Tovera's touch was feather light. "I always found them interesting. I think I actually did like them, even the very first time I saw you in Kostroma City, when I was still with the Fifth Bureau, but I had no idea what liking meant, back then. You still have those freckles, but you've got none of the little wrinkles you used to have. And you've had strands of grey hair for years, almost as long as we've been in the RCN. Those are gone as well." Tovera's fingers played with a lock of Adele's short brown hair.

"But even if you'd gone completely grey, Adele, we'd still be asking you to share the bed, Tovera and I. Because you're our very dearest friend, and we'd sleep better knowing you were with us."

"Really, Daniel?"

"Yes."

"Besides, Adele," Tovera said, "you sometimes have nightmares, don't you? We've shared the same bedroom often enough, on starships and in that little Xenos flat you rented before you got your family's townhouse back. I never understood why you cried in your sleep... but now I do, at least a little bit, and we're friends, and I will not leave my friend to suffer that alone."

"Well, if you're both sure..."

"Yes, Adele."

"Of course we are."

She was so sleepy that she'd already stripped down to her knickers by the time she thought about the fact that Daniel and Tovera were in the room. She grabbed one of the round-collared buttonless knitted shirts, a knee-length grey one with short sleeves and the RCN seal on the front, and pulled it on. _I wonder what these are called? They're sort of shaped like the letter T; until I find out the actual name, I'll call them T-shirts._

Daniel had put on a singlet with a pair of loose shorts, not all that different to what she would have worn as a man. Tovera was wearing pyjamas, of all things, striped flannel ones with big wooden buttons; they were a bit big on her, and the effect was... adorable. They all hugged each other for a long moment before tumbling into bed. Tovera ended up in Daniel's arms, with Adele spooned against Daniel's back. It was a nice place to be. She nuzzled the back of her friend's neck and drifted off to sleep.

####

**Author's Note:**

> Years ago I encountered a little takeaway restaurant called Rajun Cajun which, despite the name, served Indian food and fried chicken. (It wasn't pronounced Rahjoon Cahjoon, but it probably should have been.) The owners were Indian and I suspect that the closest they ever came to actually meeting a Cajun was when I ate there, which, considering as my only connections to Cajun country are a handful of family friends and distant relations (one of my grandfather's sisters married a Cajun), doesn't count for much of anything. Draka lamb and grits is inspired by Low Country cooking (shrimp and grits, specifically) and the fact that in canon there was an early Indian influence on Draka cuisine and architecture. I know full well that curry and grits has just about nothing to do with Cajun food, but it does sound like something that the owners of Rajun Cajun might have cooked up, had they somehow gone upscale and taken their notion of soul food meets Indian a little further.  
> I never expected the Patil twins to be part of the Army, but they showed up and started talking about food with Gwen and Winnie and I simply couldn't get rid of them. Don't ask me what, exactly, the twins are doing as part of the same group marriage--I find the implications about as disturbing as Adele does. ;-)  
> Speaking of which, Gwen and Winnie aren't all that closely related. If Adele were a _drakensis_ herself, she'd not think they looked like sisters or cousins at all.


End file.
